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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087276">The touch of their fingers is bitter and sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justforrelax/pseuds/justforrelax'>justforrelax</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homeland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:02:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justforrelax/pseuds/justforrelax</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an alternate version of the scene where Carrie and Yevgeny were in hotel in Kohat, in episode 8x09.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carrie Mathison/Yevgeny Gromov, Yevgeny Gromov &amp; Carrie Mathison, Yevgeny Gromov/Carrie Mathison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were still in the entrance, looking at each other from head to toes. Carrie was still so close she just had to extend a hand to touch him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn't thinking straight, she couldn’t think straight. She roughly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer to her. Their lips crashed against each other, her teeth shocked and his tongue went directly for hers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Damn, this felt so good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Desire. Confusion. Desire.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knew she shouldn’t be doing that. She knew she shouldn’t be doing that with him in such situation. She knew it was just the adrenaline, the stress of the mission, the proximity she was confronted with everyday and maybe a bit of attraction from when he had saved her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knew it was nothing. No love, no fondness, no tenderness. Just utter desire. And yet. And yet, still kissing him, still holding onto his collar, she took unsteady steps backwards until she fell right on the bed, her on top of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was hesitating. But she wasn’t. She was touching his clothed arms, chest, belly. Damn, she was so eager.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He grabbed her once or twice a bit violently, to bring her closer, to feel more of her, to have her feel more of him. What was he supposed to do? Sure, he wanted her. So why did it feel like something was off? It was only sexual attraction.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She moaned in the kiss, she even bucked her hips into his. It wasn’t enough. They wanted those clothes off. She wanted him. He wanted her so bad it hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, she was even more beautiful when she was looking down at him like that. He was clumsy when he undressed her, she was confident. And her body… Shit, how could he not want her now? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It all happened so fast. She didn’t waste any time on foreplay or all. He let out a grunt when he shoved all his length in with a thrust. She mewled with pleasure, throwing her head back, calling his name, in long moans. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She remained on top the whole time, rolling her hips as he started to move faster, deeper. And the way she was looking at him… Where did all that confidence come from? Where did her anxiety go? Something still felt off. And he couldn’t tell what. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was beautiful. Good. Hot. Wet. So… why?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She came before him. He felt her tense, grab his shoulders. Her back arched and she called his name again in a last long moan. She collapsed on top of him and he ran his hands on her muscled back as his own orgasm hit him. She hummed, passed a gentle hand in his hair, kissed him even. Their breathings were labored. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then he realized. It was always the mission.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, how could he have been so blind?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She collapsed on top of him, still feeling him moving inside of her. His hands shifted from her waist to her back, his fingers travelling up her nape made her shiver. He wasn’t long and mumbled incoherent sounds in her ear when he came as well. She rolled her head to nuzzle his neck, humming as she drew random patterns on his chest, and then kissed him full on the mouth. She nibbled his lower lip gently before going slowly with her tongue. That kiss was almost chaste, after all those heated ones. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was beautiful. Shy and clumsy. Tender too. Though right now, the look in his eyes was kind of strange. He was looking at her as if he was searching for an answer. Weird. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She rose on her arms, moved away from him a little bit. She expected him to ask something, anything, to talk to her but he just got up, probably headed to the bathroom. She lied on her back, faced the ceiling, bashing her eyelids as her eyes started to sting again. What were those eyes? As if he somehow was… disappointed. It was making her feel weird. Weird and sad. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though he always looked at her as if she were something precious. It was making her feel wanted. Almost like she belonged. Except… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Yevgeny asked with a husky voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she lied as she shook her head “It’s just… This was…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A mistake?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” she rose on her elbow to face him, he was dead serious, “Of course not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh yes, it was. And a very big one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever” he hissed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed and frowned when she noticed he was picking his clothes from the floor, “You’re leaving?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course. All men do. Leave her. Alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She deserved that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be silly,” she tried, “You can sleep here, I don’t mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” his tone was sharp, cold and… angry?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She played with the bedsheets nervously as a knot started to bud in her stomach. What was with his attitude? Did she do something? Wasn't she... satisfying enough? He sounded hurt and mad and she couldn’t quite understand his reasons. Didn’t she read him well? Didn’t he… want her? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yevgeny…” she stared at her fingers drawing random figures on the sheets, “Do you regret it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, shit. So that was it, uh? He had read right through her. He knew it was a desperate move, the need to connect… He knew. He knew and he had every right to be upset. How could she do this to him? How could she do that to herself, again?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” her voice quivered, not very convincing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He scoffed, “You’re a bad liar.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was fully dressed now. And there was nothing she could do that would make him stay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going,” she made a move to get up but he raised a hand in her direction, “I can see myself out.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She heard the door open and close. Indeed, he left. He left without even saying goodnight. God, she expected it to be painful but not that painful. She lied down on her bed, tears now flowing out her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She fucked up. She fucked up real bad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She rolled over her stomach, got under the sheets, travelled her hands erratically on the bed. The fabric smelt like him, a bit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How did that happen? She bit on her lower lip. She had pushed him onto the bed. Got him rid of his clothes. Damn, he really had been something, with his hands on her hips, on her waist. Him inside of her. His grunts, pants. His cute little frown. His clenched teeth, his arched back when he came. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She cared. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She buried her face against the pillow and inhaled his scent, deeply. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She really cared. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that was why she completely blew it up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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